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This was the last time Cross was playing the Good Samaritan. They’d arrived late in town after dealing with a bunch of Akuma on the way there and hadn’t found a proper room. Allen had charmed some innkeeper to give them a small room for pocket change—Cross needed to spend some more cash least of all Allen got too confident in his ability. The room had come with only one bed and Cross, after about five minutes of dealing with his apprentice’s whining, had decided that it was not worth it to listen to another half an hour of that. The bed was big enough for the two of them; Allen wasn’t particularly tall after all.
He should have seen it coming.
Allen was a clingy little shit.
Instead of sticking to his quarter of the bed like a good apprentice would, Allen was sticking to him. Head resting on Cross’s chest, his leg thrown half over Cross’s.
“Ma-ah—”
Yeah, this was absolutely the last time Cross would allow Allen anywhere near his bed. Of all the times to have a stupid juvenile wet dream, did it have to be now?
He tried to push Allen off, but the teenager stuck to him as if he were the last person on earth.
Tomorrow, he’d drag him to a brothel and tell Allen to get rid of some steam. There were perfectly fine ways of dealing with sexual frustration. Or any frustrations in general. Life seemed less shitty when holding onto a warm body.
A warm body who knew how to please and distract him. Fine, the boy probably knew plenty about sex. He did like spending time with the whores—and not to enjoy their pleasures but to play dress up and talk about make up and how much cash you could make in a night.
They needed money but Cross wasn’t going to let his apprentice walk around and spread his legs for any man with a pretty penny. He still had some common human decency.
Regardless, point was that Allen had no business fucking waking him up in the middle of the night by rutting against his thigh.
That was getting dealt with immediately. Cross prepared to kick Allen to the ground where he should have slept in the first place.
“Don’t bitch at me, I should get a medal for putting up with this,” Cross said and tried to pry Allen’s nimble fingers from him.
”Please,” another moan left Allen’s mouth and honestly had no business sounding that pretty. “Ah, Master.”
Cross froze.
His stupid apprentice had not just said what he thought he’d heard.
Allen punctuated his moan with another roll of his hips, but Cross barely processed it as his mind spun. Not only was his apprentice having a wet dream, he was having a wet dream about Cross. And it was a good dream, from what Cross could tell from Allen’s obscene gasps and moans.
It would be a lie if Cross said he had never once thought of his young apprentice sexually. When he was too-many drinks in, his mind sometimes shamefully wandered to wishing he could spank Allen, rail him into a mattress, take the boy apart on his cock until he finally listened.
But fantasies were one thing, and reality was another. Cross had at least a couple remaining moral standards in his dwindling conscience, and not fucking his underage apprentice was one of them. This couldn’t continue.
“Wake up, idiot,” Cross hissed into Allen’s ear, still trying fruitless to stop the boy from grinding his cock against Cross’s thigh. He was dangerously close to where Cross’s own cock was treacherously beginning to swell up from the attention.
Where had the child gone who’d rise from the slightest of whispers and fail to fall asleep again for hours? Cross could be patient, knew restraint, but he had very little of either right now. Tangling his fingers in Allen’s soft hair, he pulled at it. “Enough, Allen.”
The boy’s eyes fluttered as he left the world of his dreams behind. Slightly disoriented, Allen looked up at him with a confused expression that slowly changed into something like a petulant pout. None of Allen’s usual defiance, snark, or childish brattiness—he looked actually offended.
“Master,” Allen said, his voice still half-slurred. “That wasn’t very nice.”
Cross was going to dump him at the market and tell him to stay there until he’d eradicated every single Akuma within the city, screw staying off the Earl’s radar. “It wasn’t meant to be, brat.”
“Mhm,” Allen hummed under his breath, then suddenly shifted positions. Not to get off him and drop to the ground as he should, but so that he was sitting in Cross’s lap, looking down at him. “I think you should make it up to me.”
Cross frowned, both at Allen and at himself for only getting more aroused. “Make it up to you? Absolutely not. I think you should—”
The rest of his words were stolen away by Allen leaning down and kissing him. It was a messy, unpleasant kiss, the inexperienced boy clicking his teeth against Cross’s, sliding his lips around wildly. And yet, his sloppy enthusiasm was somehow attractive, making Cross’s hard cock throb between his legs.
For a moment, Cross forget who was on top of him, and tangled his hand in their hair to take control of the kiss and show them how to make it feel good. He pulled them closer and licked into their mouth, turning the haphazard kiss into a slow, sensual tease.
It was only when the boy moaned again that Cross came back to his senses and realized with horror that it was Allen. Suddenly, he shoved the boy off of his lap and glared at him.
“What do you think you are doing?” Cross asked, fingers twitching for a cigarette, or
“I’m—” Allen paused and something like realization settled in. A moment, a thousand emotions, most of them too fast for Cross to catch in Allen’s body language, passed as Allen stared at him until, eventually, he lowered his gaze, biting at his lips. “I'm sorry, Master.”
Cross closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. What a wonderful crisis to deal with at too-fucking-early-o'clock in the morning.
“Look, brat,” Cross started. “You can't do this.”
“Why not?”
That was not the reply he had expected, but Allen raised his head again, stubbornness painting a pretty picture. He always did look the most alive when he was acting in his self-interest, in contradiction to the orders given to him, proving that he had a will and had not perished.
“Why not?” Allen repeated. “I liked it and you made me feel good, Master.”
Allen had called out to him in all kinds of situations before, but never had it sounded so filthy.
“You were dreaming.”
“What difference does it make?” Allen sat up properly, eyes sharp, lingering on the blanket pooling around Cross's hips. “I enjoyed it. You made me feel so good, holding me down and letting me moan your name. I was so, so close, Master. I need it, please. You pay to fuck all these women but won't spare me even a second glance when I'm right here.”
Cross tried to subtly pull up the bedsheets to hide just how much Allen’s words were affecting him while he was trying to lecture the boy. “There’s a difference, idiot apprentice. All those women are above age, and you’re just a boy, a boy who I raised. It would be immoral.”
His efforts had failed, as Allen glanced over to where Cross’s cock was tenting the drape of the blanket. “You’re only telling me why we can’t, not that you don’t want to. Answer me, Master. Do you want to fuck me? Do you want to make me scream? Why won’t you teach me this lesson?”
“What I want is for you to go back to sleep and forget this highly inappropriate conversation ever happened,” Cross growled at Allen, steadfastly ignoring the obscene images flooding his mind.
“Since when has Cross Marian ever cared about morality? Besides,” Allen continued, not letting Cross deter him. “You didn't raise me, Mana did.”
Cross didn't know what was worse, the fact that this was Allen’s argument, or that the boy’s words were starting to sound right in his mind. “And he'd be so very glad to know his son is asking me to fuck him.”
“Better you than a stranger. Do you want me to go ask someone else? I'm sure there are plenty who wouldn't mind.”
And then Allen had the audacity to rise up from the bed. While this had previously been his goal, Cross now found himself snarling as he grabbed Allen's hand and pulled the boy. “You're not going to throw yourself at the next best man you find like a common whore.”
“I’d charge more,” Allen replied automatically, though the heat didn't lessen. “Please, Master. There's no one here to judge and I don’t care. I don’t want anyone else to fuck me.”
He leaned in, his lips so close that it would take no effort at all for Cross to give in. His hands settled on Allen's bare hips, and it felt a little like admitting defeat, but even more, it was a victory, sweet indulgence.
The very last of his self-control vanished as Allen stared up at him with sinful half-lidded eyes. “Fine. Now shut up and let me do the talking, brat,” Cross snapped as he flipped them over to pin Allen to the mattress.
“Thank you, Mast—oh,” Allen moaned out in surprise as Cross pushed down his sleep pants sticky with precome and wrapped his hand around his cock. His hand easily covered most of Allen's cock as he began to stroke, reveling in the fact that he was the very first to touch his pure apprentice like this.
Cross adjusted their position slightly so he could lean down to suck and bite at the smooth skin of Allen's pretty neck, marking him and staking his claim. “You're mine, boy,” he murmured with a sharp twist of Allen's cock, heat flaring inside of him from the thought of Allen turning to anybody else. He used his free hand to scrape his nails lightly down Allen's Innocence arm, making him shiver and whimper, proving Cross's fantasies correct about its sensitivity.
“Did you like that?”
Allen only moaned in reply, already rendered speechless. For all his bravado, his apprentice wasn't all that experienced yet. Cross preferred it if his partners knew what they were doing, but at least this meant that there were no bad habits to unlearn and plenty Allen could be taught still.
“So wound up already, you’re not going to last long,” Cross muttered. He could just jerk Allen off and be done with it, but the lesson would hardly stick. And the boy was such a greedy thing, he doubted it would take Allen longer than a few minutes to recover his wits and then he could return the favor. Better to take the edge off now and take his time after.
Running his fingers over the green cross on Allen's hand left the boy a panting mess. Face flushed red, Allen breathed heavily, just sinking into the sensations, letting Cross do as he pleased.
“Good boy,” Cross rasped out, and with another stroke of his hand, Allen came with a cry, spilling all over his stomach and Cross’s hand. Cross withdrew his hand and licked the come off of his fingers, savoring Allen's taste while looking him straight in the eye.
As Allen caught his breath and gazed up, finally silent for once, Cross grabbed the hem of Allen's shirt to quickly pull it off and toss it aside. He rolled off of the bed for a moment to shed his own clothes, freeing his cock from its confines, and watched as Allen stared hungrily at him, eyes wide.
“Master, please, are you going to—”
“Patience, idiot apprentice,” Cross scolded. In the dim light, he located his bag, and rummaged through it to find a small, nearly-empty jar of lubricant. He smirked to himself as he climbed back into bed, straddled Allen's hips, and latched his mouth onto a nipple.
Allen cried out as Cross laved his nipple with his tongue and bit down lightly around it. At the same time, he reached over to pinch Allen's other nipple with his fingers, rolling it around between his index and his thumb, coaxing tiny gasps and moans out of the boy. After a couple minutes of teasing, Cross let go, but then began to suck on Allen's left nipple instead and stimulate him even more.
It was clear that Allen desperately wanted to beg some more to be fucked, as evident by how hard he was biting his lip. But luckily he had learned the lesson that the more he begged, the more Cross would draw out the foreplay to be agonizingly long.
Finally, Cross slid off of the nipple and traced his mouth down Allen's chest, marking up his smooth milky skin with kisses and bite marks. Allen squirmed as Cross reached lower down and swiped up a remaining puddle of come out of the dip of Allen's hipbone. A steadying hand on his wrist and a stern glare of daggers were enough to get Allen to pause his writhing in pleasure and try to stay still.
“Good,” Cross praised, unable to keep the amusement from his voice when such simple words were enough to make the boy avert his eyes, blushing brightly. It did pay off to withhold letting Allen know how well he was progressing. Filing that information for later use, Cross blindly reached for the lubricant and coated his fingers with it. “I assume you've never touched yourself?”
Allen shook his head.
“Your words, stupid apprentice. I haven't fucked you speechless yet, have I?”
The boy glared at him and huffed, looking just adorable enough. “No, Master.”
Satisfied, Cross resumed to the task of kissing Allen's skin, distracting him as he slowly pressed the first finger in Allen's hole. If the boy really wanted to sit on his cock, he'd require a bit more prep. Predictably, Allen's breath hitched and he tensed under the foreign touch.
After the first few seconds of clenching, Allen let out a breath and relaxed around the intrusion, quickly getting used to the novel sensation. His cock bounced against his stomach, fully hard again and weeping precome, and Cross placed a feather-light kiss to the tip as he slid in the second finger. Allen whimpered as Cross slowly spread his fingers apart, opening him up.
Allen thrust his hips up likely involuntarily, desperate for Cross to press further inside of him. Cross refused to acquiesce, pinning Allen's hips back down to the mattress with his other hand and pausing in his fingering to tease the boy further.
“Remember what I said about patience,” Cross hummed, before finally adding a third finger. He pressed inwards even further to brush against the bundle of nerves inside of Allen, making Allen gasp in surprise in pleasure, eyes wide and face flushed.
He gave the boy a few tantalizing seconds of pleasure before pulling out his fingers and starting to stroke his own cock. Allen pouted at him again, the cute expression juxtaposed with his bruised and ravished skin, and his glazed-over eyes, and his twitching cock.
“Master, please,” Allen begged so sweetly. “Please fuck me. I need more, I want to feel you.”
As if Cross needed more of an invitation. Allen already looked positively wrecked, marked by his Master's every action. Satisfaction settled in Cross as he finally allowed himself to sink into Allen’s tight, wet heat. Allen’s breathing was erratic and his hands sought Cross's back to steady himself; the sharp nails of his Innocence were sure to leave crescent marks on him. He gave the boy a moment to adjust, to calm himself to make his interrupted breaths and moans even more rewarding. Then, without so much as another warning, Cross finally gave his dear apprentice what he'd been asking for all night.
Allen arched his back oh-so-beautifully as Cross fucked him, thrust hard enough into him to make the wooden frame of their bed creak.
His apprentice was so tight, never having been touched like this before, and he took Cross's cock so well. Cross gripped Allen's thighs with his fingertips hard enough to leave bruises as he railed into him, nudging up against Allen’s sensitive spot.
Cross gave up on silencing Allen and instead marveled in how the boy lost himself to pleasure, babbling out an endless stream of absolutely filthy moans and curses with every thrust.
“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, stupid apprentice,” Cross commented and enjoyed keeping Allen from making another quip with a slight shift in their positions. He certainly wouldn't mind doing this more often. Typically, even when he'd worked Allen to the bone, the boy found a way to keep talking. But like this, he was blissfully silent, only the sounds of pleasure escaping him. “Maybe next time you should take my cock in your mouth.”
Allen's eyes widened slightly, keen with an interest that only heightened Cross's arousal. He could just imagine Allen on his knees in front of him, pink lips wrapped around his cock.
“You'd enjoy that too, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” Allen replied eagerly, his hips meeting Cross’s with every beat. “God, yes, after—later, please, I'm so close, please make me come.”
Cross grinned as he snapped his hips forward into Allen yet again. “Come for me, brat,” he said, and with that, Allen crested over the edge with a moan. Shudders wracked his small body as he came, covering his body in his seed yet again, making him the perfect picture of ruined innocence, a corrupted pretty boy.
Even after Allen came, Cross kept thrusting his cock inside, overstimulating him and taking him apart further than he thought possible, lost in a sex-drunk daze. It didn't take long for Cross to follow suit, coming inside of Allen and letting out his own deep moan.
Normally, after orgasm, Cross would help clean up a bit but then vanish as quickly as possible, never waking up with a hookup. But Allen wasn't just another quick fuck. They were stuck together, as Cross had promised Mana. This likely had not been what Mana had had in mind with his request, but nevertheless, Cross owed it to him to not abandon Allen out of fear of getting attached.
“Brat, get up.”
Allen opened his eyes just to glare at him. “You’re not kicking me out of the bed after this.”
Cross rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to kick Allen out of the bed as he’d intended earlier. “No, but we're filthy and need to wash up.”
They had a long day of traveling ahead and Cross doubted they'd make as much progress as usual. If Allen could confidently stand on his two feet now, then Cross had done something wrong. He wanted to catch at least some rest and that meant at least cleaning the come off their bodies.
“Are you always so pushy after sex, Master?” Allen asked, but only threw his legs over the edge of the bed.
A moment passed and just for that Cross was going to let Allen's comment slide.
“Is there something wrong?” Cross asked, grinning and enjoying the way the boy was clearly trying to figure out the best way to make this the least embarrassing for himself. Allen's reply was all mumbling, but enough for him to make out anyway.
“You really can't do anything on your own.” He got up and pulled Allen to his feet, indulging just a bit in seeing the boy wince.
“And whose fault is that?”
“You asked for it, stupid apprentice.”